


We Survived

by Heimeldat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Mentioned Darth Vader, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Star Wars Rebels: The Siege of Lothal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heimeldat/pseuds/Heimeldat
Summary: "I thought I had nothing left to fear."Kanan thought fighting the Inquisitor had rid him of his fear. His encounter with Darth Vader teaches him otherwise. As the remains of the rebel forces flee Lothal, Hera offers Kanan as much strength and reassurance as she can.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	We Survived

There was silence for the first time in days. Kanan sat in the Ghost’s common room with his eyes shut and tried to center himself. How long had it been since he’d had time to sit down and breathe? The past few days had been an endless chaotic rush of fighting, fleeing — and failing. They lost Tua, they lost to the Sith lord, they lost the command ship, they lost Lothal.

Kanan squeezed his eyes closed more tightly and folded his arms across his chest, trying to drive out the lingering cold. Ever since they faced that Sith lord, it seemed the only warmth in his body was the burning pain in his shoulder where the Sith’s lightsaber had cut through his armor.

“Kanan?”

His eyes snapped open and he looked up at Hera. He hadn’t heard or sensed her approach. “I thought you went to bed,” he said. The others had all crawled into their bunks as soon as they entered hyperspace. Even Ahsoka had accepted the spare bunk in Sabine’s cabin, leaving Chopper to watch the cockpit.

“I thought you might need me,” said Hera. She settled on the curved bench beside Kanan and hefted the box she’d been carrying. A medical kit, of course. She’d seen his fight with the Sith; she hadn’t mentioned it earlier, but she knew he was hurt. “You’re holding that arm like you’re afraid it might fall off.”

He looked down at the way he’d folded his arms, with the right curled tight against his chest while his left hand gripped it so tightly that the edges of his armor were cutting into his fingers. He drew a slow, deep breath and loosened his grip. “It’s not—” He broke off. It wasn’t the pain that was bothering him. “I’m fine,” he said.

“None of us are fine,” said Hera.

Kanan looked away. So many things had gone wrong today. He was just grateful none of them had ended up dead.

“We’ll be a long time fixing the damage to the rebellion,” Hera murmured. “But this—” She touched his arm gently— “This is something I can fix, so will you please let me?”

Kanan turned his head toward her again. Those vivid green eyes held him, showing a depth of feeling that she rarely revealed to the rest of the crew. She was frightened, exhausted, desperate to find something that hadn’t spiralled out of her control. Kanan knew those feelings all too well.

“I suppose I could use a little help,” he said, resting his right arm on the table in front of them and unbuckling the chest strap of his armor with the other hand.

“Only a little?” Hera said teasingly.

He smiled, but it only lasted for an instant. He frowned down at Hera’s slender hands as she pulled off his armor and laid it on the table. “I’ll need to weld that cut,” he muttered.

“Have Sabine do it,” said Hera. “It’ll look better.”

“She’ll repaint the whole — ow!”

“Sorry, love. Here, take your shirt off.”

He thought of a few good ways to reply to that particular command, but he was too exhausted. He just nodded and pulled off his shirt — or tried to, anyway. He hissed with pain as the sleeve stuck to his upper arm.

“Here, I’ve got it.” Hera pulled a pair of scissors from the medical kit and cut his sleeve before pulling the rest of the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. “This doesn’t look good,” she said.

Kanan glanced down at his arm and winced. A strip of charred fabric was melted into his skin around the edges of the scorched lightsaber cut. “I’ve had worse,” he said.

“Hm,” said Hera. “I’ll need to get the fibers out so it doesn’t get infected. Sit still.”

“Yes, doctor.” Kanan leaned his head back against the cushions of the bench as Hera gripped his arm. Her fingers felt cool and soft against his inflamed skin. The tweezers she started using to peel away the melted fibers, not so much. Kanan drew in a sharp breath and clenched his fist on the table.

“Amazing flying earlier,” he said through gritted teeth. “He had the Force guiding him, and you still managed to evade his fire.”

“Barely,” said Hera quietly. “I’ve never seen flying like that. I don’t know how I kept us in one piece.”

“Because you’re amazing,” said Kanan.

“Or lucky.” She paused. “The Force guiding him. You have that too, and you don’t fly like that.”

“The Force — the Dark Side — is very strong with him.” Kanan shivered. The chill still hadn’t left him. “Very strong.”

Hera fell silent for a moment. Her tweezers dug deeper into Kanan’s wound, and he clenched his left hand around his right wrist, fighting the reflex to jerk away from the pain. It felt like she was ripping out a chunk of flesh, but when she pulled the tweezers away, they were only gripping a few threads melted into a small strip of burned skin.

“I thought the Inquisitor was bad,” Hera said softly as she turned his arm slightly, looking for any threads she’d missed. “But a Sith lord—”

Kanan swallowed and looked at the black and white checkers of the table under his clenched hands. “I thought I had nothing left to fear,” he whispered. “After the Inquisitor — it felt like I had taken a great stride forward. The calm, the peace I found when I was fighting him, the connection I made with the Force when I let go of my fear. It felt like a lesson that would stay with me. But today. . .”

“But you held your own against him anyway.”

Kanan shook his head. “He could have crushed us in an instant, Hera. He was playing with us. The way he tossed us aside without bothering to hurt us — Hera, he barely moved throughout that fight! He just  _ stood  _ there, taking whatever we threw at him, predicting every move we made and blocking it like it was nothing.”

Hera set aside the tweezers and opened a disinfectant capsule. “Those exploding walkers slowed him down, at least.” She emptied the disinfectant into Kanan’s wound, and he grunted as fresh pain burned through his arm. The disinfectant made short work of whatever sweat and grime had gotten into his wound since the fight, but stars, it wasn’t gentle about it.

“The walkers gave him an excuse to let us get away,” Kanan growled. “And a chance to show off. He wanted us scared. He wanted us running back to the fleet as fast as possible. If he hadn’t intended to use us as bait, none of us would be here now.”

Hera shivered slightly, as if she’d started to feel the bone-freezing chill of the Dark Side as well. “Well, we are here,” she murmured. She gently pressed a bacta patch onto Kanan’s arm, and the burning started to subside. “We survived,” she said.

Kanan nodded. “We survived,” he repeated. It didn’t feel like much.

Hera leaned against his shoulder, being careful not to press against his wound, and reached up to untie his hair. “It’s enough for now, love,” she whispered. She ran her fingers through his hair, ignoring the sweat and dirt and the smoky smell. Kanan felt himself starting to relax as her fingers traced their way again and again across his scalp and down the side of his neck, combing out his hair to its full length before returning ot the top of his head for another stroke. At another time, it might have been a teasing gesture, but today it was simple comfort. Her body was warm against his side, and the lingering cold of the Dark Side withdrew a little.

For now, they had left the Sith lord behind. He was still out there, but Kanan couldn’t remember a time in his life when danger hadn’t been waiting for him around every corner. He knew how to live with uncertainty. For now, Hera was right. It was enough that they had survived. The fight could wait for another day.


End file.
